


The Great Gateau

by Camelittle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur's Bum IS the perfect booty hurrah, Bad Flirting, Barista Merlin, Bottom Arthur, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, New Year's Eve, Not much porn sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/pseuds/Camelittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just the usual boy meets boy, spills his coffee, mops his posh shoes, flirts badly and yet still manages to shag him senseless story. That's the power of cheekbones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Gateau

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merlocked18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlocked18/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Can't believe I just met you down at the coffee shop](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5552417) by [Merlocked18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlocked18/pseuds/Merlocked18). 



> This is for Merlocked18 who helped me to dream up this whole glorious, ridiculous coffee shop AU and then drew beautiful art for it so that I had no choice but to write it. <3 <3 <3 Happy New Year dear Merls! 
> 
> Oh, and not content with that, she gave me this delicious layer-cake of a fic name to go with it. Yum yum :)

When the twenty-first century finally reached Ealdor, The Great Gateau (complete with its prize-winning lemon meringue pies and soda-breads) was one of the first establishments to provide wireless broadband to its patrons. Thereby instantly adding a new duty to Merlin’s already lengthy roster of barista-ing duties - in this case, advising people of the wireless access key. 

“It’s tea2go, all one word, with a numeric '2'," he said, for about the fiftieth time that day as he deposited Mrs Cusack’s cappuccino in front of her, and tried not to roll his eyes. “Same as yesterday. It should connect automatically.” 

“Really dear?” Frowning, she peered at her screen. “And how will I know that it’s done that?” 

Gaius should have been paying him to be an IT support specialist, as well as waiter, cook, barista and all-round dogsbody. But it was a job, and there were precious few enough of those around those parts, so he kept his sarcastic comments for the most part to himself, and gratefully accepted tips whenever they were offered. 

Sometimes this duty was less onorous. For example, only the day previously, a gorgeous, square-jawed, golden-haired hottie had strode through the door and demanded, in a voice accustomed to getting its way, a large flat white with a slice of lemon meringue on the side, and to make it snappy. And then he had turned to reveal the most incredible set of buttocks Merlin had ever had the opportunity to ogle. He and Gwen had christened him Sweetcheeks on the spot. Merlin’s legs wobbled at the memory.

But today - well, it was bad enough that he had to work on New Year’s Eve at all. And to make things worse, when he and Sefa had tossed a coin to see who would have to take the late shift with Gwen, he’d lost. So, at five o’clock sharp, taking advantage of a sudden lull in the shop, Sefa tapped her watch, and gleefully tugged at her apron strings. 

“See you later, Merlin!” she said, far too cheerfully, depositing a peck of a fond kiss onto his cheek.”Don’t mope too much. I’ll keep some champagne for you! Don’t make Gwen stay too late, now  She’s got to make herself beautiful for Lance.”

“You’d bloody better,” he said from his vantage behind the counter, where he was keeping a wary eye on a batch of pastry for the New Year’s Day staff party. “And don’t forget, you promised me that there’d be a single gay bloke coming.” 

“Yes,” said Gwen, who was loading a tray of empty coffee cups. “Morgana said her half brother’s here, visiting for the holidays, and she promised she’d bring him along, although apparently he’s being a bit of a grump at the moment. Something about him not getting on with her half sister or cousin or something. I've kind of lost track of who's who in that family.” 

“Well, let’s see if I can cheer him up, then shall I?” said Merlin with a smirk. It was tough, being the only out gay bloke in a village this size. 

 

*

 

Half an hour later, the coffee shop was still empty and Merlin was beginning to harbour ideas about locking up a bit early, so that he could get home and change ready for the party. He pushed through into the store-room to do one final check on the remaining items for the next day, and was just bending over, counting coffee packets to check against the inventory on his notepad, when the door clicked open to reveal Gwen’s face.

“He’s here again!” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth. 

“Who?” said Merlin, straightening up too fast and promptly bumping his head on the shelf. “Ow!” 

“Sweetcheeks, that’s who!” She nodded towards the shop. “At his usual table, earphones on, face like thunder. God, I wouldn’t mind kissing the pout off those sulky lips.” 

“Gwen! You’re taken! What would Lance say?” 

“Just window shopping.” She smiled winsomely. 

“Well hands off. He’s mine.” But even as he said it, his face fell. The chance of Sweetcheeks, with his perfectly messed up hair and shoulders so wide you could use them as a table, being gay? Practically zero. 

“Well come on out here and serve him, then.” She held out her hand, and he gratefully thrust his clipboard into it. “Seduce him with your lemon drizzle cake.” 

“Thanks Gwen,” he said, smiling widely. 

“You’re welcome. Oh, and your pen is stuck behind your ear.” 

“Oops!” He retrieved it and struck a pose, sweeping his hair away from his face. “How do I look?” 

“Positively edible, darling.” She blew him a kiss. “Now, shoo.”

But, twenty minutes later when it was nearly time for Gwen to go, and the shop was only just over an hour away from shutting, Sweetcheeks was still there and Merlin was starting to feel a little less charitable. 

“When do you think he’ll go?” Gwen looked at her watch. “I told Lance I’d be over by seven. I was hoping to get off a bit early, give myself time to powder my nose.” 

“Well, Gaius said we had to stay till the last customer left.” Merlin sighed and leaned his elbows on the counter. Sweetcheeks, seemingly oblivious with his headphones on, was still peering at his laptop. Every so often, he tapped a few keys and then frowned. “I wonder what he’s listening to. Something posh and classical, I’ll bet.” Oblivious, the object of their conversation raked his hair with his hand, and went back to contemplating his screen. “Bet he’s composing poetry. Or doing some multi-billion pound business deal.” 

Abruptly, Sweetcheeks stood up and stretched, and then bent to retrieve something from his expensive-looking laptop case, affording them a glimpse of his perfectly formed behind. 

“Hell fire!” Merlin breathed. “Would you take a look at that arse?”

“Merlin! You can’t ogle customers like that!” Gwen punched his arm, but didn’t look away. 

“I’m sorry. I’m a bad person.” He let out a happy sigh, eyes still glued to the man’s swaying rump, hugged as it was by well-cut trousers that stretched taut across the gap between two generous hemispheres. “And he’s just made my day.” 

“That’s all very well. But can’t the guy take a hint that we want to close early?” Sighing, Gwen mopped up the already pristine work surface one more time. 

“Don’t worry,” said Merlin. “I’ll drop some more hints. Heavier ones.”  Grabbing the spray-cleaner, he busied himself as noisily as he could around the tables, squirting and wiping and pulling chairs around. When that didn’t work he started turning the chairs upside down onto the table surfaces. 

But, instead of cottoning on, Sweetcheeks sauntered over to the counter, pulling his headphones over his hair so that it rucked up over his forehead, which had the unexpected impact of making him look, if anything, even more good-looking. 

“What time do you close?” he asked Gwen. 

“Oh. Seven, sir.” She dimpled. “Or whenever the last customer leaves.” 

“Oh! Great,” he said with a sudden crooked smile that lit up his face. “In that case, can I have another cappuccino please? And less of the sir, I get enough of that at work. Do call me Arthur. I’m here all week, we might as well be friendly.” 

Well, fuck. Gorgeous booty or not, Sweetcheeks - Arthur - had no concept of courtesy. Exchanging a despairing look with Gwen, Merlin flung his cloth down onto the table, mid-wipe, and walked back to the espresso machine to start preparing a bad-tempered coffee. 

“There you go.” He bashed it down on the table when it was done, so that foam slopped over the side. 

“Thanks,” said Arthur, pulling his earphones back on, and not even looking up from his laptop as he drew the cup nearer. 

Curious about what could be so important, Merlin peered over his shoulder and then snorted when he saw what Arthur was staring so intently at. 

Match of the Day. Well. That clinched it. Straight. For sure. He should have known. 

Not only that, but clearly the gentle hints weren’t working. While Gwen pulled all the cakes off and started to load them into the refrigerator, Merlin popped out back and returned with a mop and a steaming bucket of soapy water, and started cleaning the floor, paying particular attention to Arthur’s table and those next to it. 

But it was only when he started actively mopping over the top of Arthur’s immaculately polished brogues that he finally elicited a reaction. 

“Do you mind?” Pulling off his earphones again, Arthur scowled at him. “Those are Churches. You’ll have the polish off.” 

“Oops!” said Merlin, lifting an unrepentant eyebrow as his mop slid once more over Arthur’s shoes and a little way up his left leg for good measure. “Sorry. Just cleaning up ready to _go home_.”

“Shame this coffee’s a bit too hot for me to drink, just yet.” Holding his gaze, Arthur took a sip of his coffee, extending his tongue to wipe clean up the resulting foam moustache. “Mmm. But yes, just a bit too hot. I’ll need to wait a few more minutes before i start drinking it.” 

“Prat,” muttered Merlin under his breath. Pursing his lips, he shoved his mop back into his bucket and turned his back on the posh git. Arthur’s low chuckle made his face burn. 

But by six, the twat still hadn’t started drinking his cappuccino. 

“Surely it must be cold by now?” Even the normally sweet-tempered Gwen was beginning to look a bit frayed round the edges. 

“It’s all right, Gwen. You go. I know the perfect way of getting rid of straight gits like him.” 

“Really? You’re sure?” 

“Yeah.” Merlin grinned. “I’ll do the gay come-on. Straight guys are terrified by it, trust me. He’ll be out of here in a jiffy.” 

“Thanks, sweetie.” She kissed his cheek, and struggled out of her apron. “See you later. Leave on the Christmas lights when you lock up. And don’t forget the vodka jelly!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

 

*

 

The trouble was, in a village like Ealdor, Merlin really hadn’t had many opportunities to practise his gay flirting skills. So they were a bit rusty. 

“Nearly finished your drink yet, handsome?” he said, casting around for something suitably flirtatious. “Ready for something a bit stronger?” 

“I thought you didn’t serve alcohol.” 

“I wasn’t referring to that. I thought that maybe you’d like to sample my... um... chocolate fingers?” said Merlin, licking his lips. “I’ve had lots of compliments?” 

“Mmm?" Arthur looked up enquiringly. "Oh! Um. Not right now, thanks?” 

Was it Merlin’s imagination, or were Arthur’s cheeks turning a bit pink? Encouraged, he pressed on. 

“No? In that case, maybe I can tempt you with my fondant fancies? Sweet, and scrumptious, firm bottomed and sugar-coated. The icing’s lush. I guarantee you’ll love licking it off and then sucking it down. Yum!” To emphasise his words, Merlin smacked his lips with an obscene slurp, and fluttered his lashes. “How about it?”

“Erm…” Arthur coughed and turned a most attactive shade of red. 

Merlin winked, and feeling greatly daring, sidled a little closer until his groin was level with Arthur’s shoulder. 

“Excuse me?” said Arthur, leaning away a little. Aha! “I’m trying to work on this important document!” 

“Really? It looks strangely like Match of the Day to me,” said Merlin. “Mind you, not that I blame you. I wouldn’t mind penetrating Manchester United’s tight back four, myself.” Sod it. In for a penny, and all that. He waggled his hips in what he hoped approximated a pelvic thrust. 

“In your dreams.” Arthur snorted. 

“I beg your pardon?” Merlin flicked his cloth at the table.

“Well. It takes a pretty sizeable weapon to penetrate that sort of defence.” Arthur smirked at him.

“Oh, really?” said Merlin. Hang on a minute. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought that Arthur was flirting right back at him. 

“Yeah, really!” 

“Well, I’ll have you know that I’m exceptionally well blessed.” 

“Oh yeah? Well, I’d expect *ahem*... _hard evidence_ to back up that sort of claim!” said Arthur, leaning back on his chair with a widening grin. 

“Hard evidence?” Merlin let his eyes roam around Arthur’s wide shoulders and firm chest, snugly encased  in a well-fitting t-shirt. “With the right stimulus, I wouldn’t have any trouble supplying that.” 

“Glad to hear it,” said Arthur with a smirk. “It’s a bit difficult to tell while you’re wearing that… pinny.” 

“Pinny?” Realising that his voice had come out with a bit of a squeak, Merlin hastily moderated its pitch. “It’s an apron, I’ll have you know.” 

“Pinny, apron, I don’t really care. You’re hiding behind it.” 

“I am not!” 

“Prove it, then.” Arthur picked up the teaspoon nestling on his saucer, and inserted it between his lips, holding Merlin’s gaze all the while. "You know. The weapon thing." The pink end of his tongue poked out to swirl around the bowl of the spoon. His eyes dipped lazily towards Merlin’s groin and then back up again in a clear statement of challenge. 

“Hell fire!” Merlin breathed. Not only was this gorgeous stranger flirting with him, but all Merlin’s assumptions about his straightness were incorrect. Hastily revising his plans, Merlin straightened up to his full height. 

“Very well,” he said, haughtily. “Follow me.” And with a suggestive hip waggle, he led the way to the stock cupboard, to show Arthur the evidence. All over the desk and, as it happened, backed up against the door for good measure.

"You know, I don't normally do this sort of thing," said Merlin, panting into Arthur's neck after the second time. 

"Me neither," Arthur replied, absently stroking Merlin's hair. "But you hit me when I was down. Apparently cheekbones and appalling customer service turn me on. I think there must be something wrong with me." 

"Huh. In my case it's sarcasm, prattishness and an amazing bum." Merlin closed his eyes and drank in Arthur's scent - an intoxicating mix of heat and musk. "But I get your point." 

"I christened you Cheekbones in my head," carried on Arthur.

"I called you Sweetcheeks," said Merlin. 

"Hah." Arthur's eyes narrowed to enchanting almond shapes when he laughed, and his body shook. "We're a right pair." 

And later, at the New Year’s Eve party, where he finally discovered that Arthur was, in fact, Morgana’s half brother, and thus a guest at her party in his own right, they slipped away to the guest bedroom. Where, with Arthur’s loud and enthusiastic encouragement, he  left fingerprint bruises all over Arthur’s plump, pert bum whilst vigorously fucking him into the mattress. Thus ensuring that he started the New Year as he meant to go on. 

Wobbly-kneed, sticky, and covered in bite marks.

*END*

*Happy New Year*


End file.
